Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Ivory Coast and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Grauzone to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Hardrive,
Altered Images,
Arab on Radar,
Carl Craig,
Avey Tare,
Patti Smith,
The Toasters,
F. McDonald,
Cluster,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roy Ayers,
The Blackbyrds,
The Dave Clark Five,
Television Personalities,
Scan 7,
Minnie Riperton,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
the Association,
Joe Finger,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Womack,
Gichy Dan,
The Motions,
Joyce Sims,
Pylon,
The Standells,
Marc Almond,
Scion,
Piero Umiliani,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wally Richardson,
The Last Poets,
Radio Birdman,
Al Stewart,
the Sonics,
The Monks,
The Gories,
Bootsy Collins,
Archie Shepp,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kenny Larkin,
T.S.O.L.,
Boz Scaggs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Fania All-Stars,
K-Klass,
Letta Mbulu,
Morten Harket,
Black Moon,
Rufus Thomas,
The Skatalites,
Icehouse,
the Normal,
Brothers Johnson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Excepter,
Massinfluence,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.